[ There's something a little weird about calling in a thief to stop a thief, especially when the newly appointed guard actually has a rap sheet and more than a few stolen goods still in his possession. His guns, for instance. The jacket he's wearing, for another. The ship he came in on, the five hundred credits in his pocket, hell, even the pen he's currently twirling between his fingers.
Peter's just not really sure if the curator has thought this through, is what we're saying.
But here he is, sitting and waiting, placed in his strategically chosen spot within easy line of sight to the painting in question; the other guards have been placed elsewhere to cover all their bases. (Peter doesn't get art. It is not his thing. Which is why he has no shame in admitting that he thinks the painting in question looks dumb.) When the comms finally cut and the thief of the hour's voice cuts in over the speakers, Peter tucks his new pen into the pocket of his jacket and taps the trigger for his helmet. The mask flows up around his head, and he stands at the ready, keeping an eye on the possible entrances around him. ]
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Peter's just not really sure if the curator has thought this through, is what we're saying.
But here he is, sitting and waiting, placed in his strategically chosen spot within easy line of sight to the painting in question; the other guards have been placed elsewhere to cover all their bases. (Peter doesn't get art. It is not his thing. Which is why he has no shame in admitting that he thinks the painting in question looks dumb.) When the comms finally cut and the thief of the hour's voice cuts in over the speakers, Peter tucks his new pen into the pocket of his jacket and taps the trigger for his helmet. The mask flows up around his head, and he stands at the ready, keeping an eye on the possible entrances around him. ]